


the lines we cross

by adamantine



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Gen, The Ethics of Espionage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-17 01:37:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14177739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adamantine/pseuds/adamantine
Summary: Sometimes she had to wonder if it was worth becoming part of the empire to destroy it.ORI'm in love with the moral dilemmas of Krolia & the Blades





	the lines we cross

**Author's Note:**

> hello I like talking about the blades of marmora on twitter (@imoshen) just a hint
> 
> also if krolia dies I will riot, this is your warning now dreamworks

Krolia did not see the child at first.

The woman was trying to hide it, clutching it so close to her chest that it disappeared into the fabric of her clothes. But the child didn’t appreciate being held so tight. It began to fidget. The movement caught her attention. She looked away to pretend she hadn’t seen the child, but the woman—it’s mother she guessed—noticed Krolia’s eyes widening and began to cry even harder. 

“Please, don’t hurt us! Have mercy!” Krolia had been relaying a message to Kolivan when crunching leaves had caught her attention. She had drawn her gun with the intent to kill some unlucky soldier but instead, she found herself aiming it at a woman and child, natives of the planet—small, furry brown creatures, that reached Krolia’s knees at adult height. Their technology was primitive, their society peaceful. They were easy pickings for the Galra. 

The child was silent, a stark contrast to its mother whose wailing was the loudest Krolia had heard. Maybe it couldn’t cry yet. She knew little about the natives. Most had fled into the planet’s dense forests as soon as it was clear the Galra did not come in peace. The unlucky few left behind were now slaves for the mining operation. There were child-slaves among them but as far as she knew not a single infant. This woman had hidden her baby well. Krolia was impressed. It helped that the baby was such a tiny thing—smaller than a Galra infant, smaller than— 

_He’s too little._  Had she ever been that size? What about the man next to her? It seemed impossible. An entire person shouldn’t be able to fit in her arms.

The man laughed.  _He’s a perfectly average size, above average even._  He misunderstood her. She wasn’t comparing their child to a full-blooded Galra, she was comparing it to her, to the man, to the universe outside. How could something so small protect itself?

_That’s our job._  Yes, it was. He would protect their son from the everyday hurts of life, the scrapes and bruises, the broken hearts, and she would create a universe that didn’t kill him for existing. 

“Lieutenant, what’s going on?” Only years of training kept Krolia from flinching in surprise. Zenar, her superior, had found them. She chided herself for letting memories distract her. If Kolivan was here, he would have given her that look of disappointment he excelled in. He could do it even with his mask on; it was a real talent.

“Sir,” she turned toward Zenar, “I believe this woman is—“

“Please, I wasn’t trying to run away! It’s all a misunderstanding!” The woman threw herself at Zenar’s feet, one hand around her child and the other reaching out to touch Zenar’s boots. A mistake. He kicked her aside, barely missing her child in the process.

Krolia clenched her teeth.

_Stupid woman_. If only she had let Krolia finish talking. She was trying to say the woman was lost and offer to escort her back to the occupied village. Zenar would have looked the other way, she was sure of it. He didn’t like to involve himself in the lives of the natives. They were beneath his attention. But the woman didn’t trust Krolia, which Krolia could only blame herself for. Krolia had aimed a gun at her; Zenar at least seemed willing to discuss the situation.

“How dare you touch me.” The disgust in Zenar’s voice killed that delusion. “Lieutenant, shoot them.”

Krolia reached for her gun.

“No!” The woman’s cries were piercing. Zenar covered his ears. “My son, please, don’t hurt my son! He’s a baby, please, don’t punish him for my mistakes!”  _A boy._  The universe was taunting Krolia.

Perhaps if she shot the mother, Zenar would forget about the child. They were close to the forest. Someone might save the child once they left. Where was its father? Shouldn’t he be there to protect his son? Maybe he was in the forest, too busy trying to create a better world, not knowing his child was in danger _now_.

If Zenar asked her to shoot the child, she wouldn’t do it, consequences be damned. Let it stay where it’s mother had fallen. It was a test of survival. Wasn’t that the Galra way? She would make Zenar see sense. She  _had_  too.

Krolia aimed for the mother’s head. A quick, clean death. She could do that much for the woman.

“Sir, there’s an incoming transmission for you.” A helmeted soldier interrupted them. Krolia lowered her gun. This was the second time today she had been caught by surprise. This time by a grunt not even  _trying_  to be sneaky. What was wrong with her?

“From who?” Zenar asked.

“It’s not clear, sir. It’s encrypted, though we’ve traced the location to somewhere in the Allumian system.”

Unlike Krolia, Zenar hadn’t trained for years to hide his emotions. His panic was immediately clear. Zenar was a well-known gambler. Well-known not for his skill but for his lack of it. Rumor was he had a sizable amount of gambling debts, a rumor that the Blade of Marmora knew was true. Krolia racked her brain for the information she’d been given on him before starting the mission. Wasn’t one of Zenar’s creditors in the Allumian system? They might very well be bold enough to send him a transmission. If the Blade’s intel was correct (and she had every reason to believe it was) Zenar owed that particular creditor enough GAC to buy a small planet.

Krolia relaxed her grip and lowered her gun. “Sir, I can take care of these natives while you answer the transmission.”

Zenar looked as if he had forgotten she was still there. “Yes, yes. I have—well I shouldn’t keep them waiting. Whoever it is. I don’t know, obviously.”

“Of course, sir. Vrepit Sa.” Zenar didn’t even bother returning the salute, he was almost falling over himself to get out of there.

Krolia aimed her gun once more, waiting until she was sure Zenar and the soldier were completely out of sight. The woman had given up on begging for her life and was now simply crying silent tears. She used her body to shield her son as best as she could, not knowing, or perhaps not wanting to acknowledge, that Krolia’s gun could pierce through them both like they were made of paper.

Krolia's gun whirred. She fired it.

Leaves and dirt sprayed everywhere, dirtying the woman and Krolia.

“Run.” The woman stared at her. She could not process what Krolia had done. “If I see you again, I’ll kill you and your son. Not necessarily in that order.” The woman stayed frozen in shock. “Go! Before I change my mind.”

The woman scrambled off the ground, the shock still there, and ran into the forest. Krolia waited until the woman was no longer visible before pressing a palm to her face. She had a mission. She needed to rise in the empire’s ranks to do it. If that soldier hadn’t interrupted, she would have killed that woman to keep her cover. She could live with that. She _did_ live with that.

What she didn’t want to live with was the horrible fear that if she had rationalized the situation longer, she might have killed the child too.

She shot the ground again.

⇌ ⇌ ⇌

 

“I’m being transferred.” The tiny Kolivan floating in front of her was impassive. She guessed this meant he was already aware of the situation. “Though it’s more accurate to say Zenar’s entire unit is being disbanded.”

“Yes, we received word his gambling problems had become too much of an embarrassment for the Galra.” Krolia smirked and regretted it instantly. She could practically  _feel_  Kolivan’s disapproval radiating from the communicator. “You were supposed to use Zenar’s debts as leverage against him. Not leak the information. Zenar’s disgrace puts you in danger. Your entire unit might be seen as complicit with—“

Krolia held up a hand. She didn’t care if she was being rude. She wasn’t in the mood for a lecture, not even if it came from a place of concern. “If I were truly in danger, you would have sent someone after me.”

“Not if the situation was too risky. Not if I lacked the Blades to spare. Not if—”

“This transfer is an opportunity.” She cut him off, she would not be lectured at like some kind of errant teenager. Sure, she took a risk but it was a  _calculated_  one. The empire’s forces weren’t large enough to waste the lives of an entire unit just because their leader was a problem. Probably. “I was getting nowhere with Zenar. He’s been out of favor with the empire for some time.”

This, at least, Kolivan seemed to agree with. “Yes, at least some good can come of this. You’re being reassigned under Ranveig’s command.”

She felt as if she had flown straight into an asteroid. “Ranveig?” She knew the name, everyone did. He was a warlord, emphasis on the  _war_. He traveled outside of known space, finding and conquering new worlds. He made Zenar look kind.

“Is that a problem?” It was not an accusation. She knew Kolivan well enough to see his worry. If she requested it, he would pull her out of the field. It would be a blow to their intelligence network, but he would do it for her, to keep her safe. He didn’t risk agents needlessly or let them take on missions outside their abilities. They’d have no members left if he did.

“No, it’s nothing I can’t handle.” She wasn’t lying. Whatever nightmares Ranveig threw at her, she would throw back. That wasn’t the problem. It was just sometimes she had to wonder if it was worth becoming part of the empire to destroy it; if what she and the rest of the Blades were doing was even working. Were they any closer to ending the Galra Empire than when the Blade of Marmora was founded?

“If you’re sure—“

“I am.” In the end, it didn’t matter. She could  _never_  sit back and let the empire continue. The universe would never be safe as long as it existed. She would do anything to destroy it, even compromise her own morals. That’s who she was. That’s who she had to be.

“Good. He’s setting up a research facility. That’s where you’ll be transferred.”

⇌ ⇌ ⇌

 

Ranveig was a despicable man, as she expected, but he was also intelligent in a way few Galra commanders were. It was fair to say his ruthlessness was not the sole reason for his success as a conquerer. He didn’t have a scientific background, but his depth of knowledge on weapons was terrifying.

The research facility was part of a base Ranveig set up on a long-abandoned planet. It had been stripped of its Quintessence centuries earlier and was now mostly inhabitable, which suited Krolia just fine. The research itself was, unsurprisingly, mostly regarding weapons. How to improve them, how to create new ones, how to disable the ones that already existed. It wasn’t unusual for the Gala Empire’s research to be so narrowly focused but in Ranveig’s case, it was worrisome. He wasn’t sharing research outside the base. He wasn’t trying to climb ranks or win favor from Zarkon. He already had all that. If he wanted to be part of central command, he would have been. No, what Ranveig wanted was the throne itself. That was a dangerous idea. Zarkon hadn’t stayed in power for 10,000 years through luck. There had been plenty of Galra throughout those years that had tried to seize power from him. They were all dead. Dead and forgotten expect by those who had been alive to see their failure, or by those who knew history beyond the Empire’s propaganda, like the Blade of Marmora.

If Ranveig tried to seize power from Zarkon that would be the end of her unless Ranveig succeeded, and she wouldn’t bet on it. The Galra Empire might have looked the other way for Zenar’s embarrassments but this was another matter entirely. They would wipe out everyone involved with Ranveig. Even the sentries would be destroyed or reprogrammed.

As long as Ranveig’s research didn’t succeed in finding something strong enough to take on Zarkon and his witch, she was safe.

Living on the base began to feel normal. She started off as a lowly research assistant, but there were plenty of opportunities for promotion under Ranveig. It was easy to stage accidents here and there in the type of conditions they worked in. Their research was dangerous; it wasn’t a surprise for things to go wrong. If anyone noticed things tended to go wrong in a way that worked out for Krolia, they didn’t say. She climbed the ranks until only Ranveig was above her. She thought of killing him, but then what? She couldn’t become a commander. Her records were forged. They were excellent forgeries to be sure, but they wouldn’t stand up to the scrutiny a promotion to commander would bring. All she could do was keep her position and continue feeding the information her rank brought her to the Blades.

It was almost boring.

 

“These readings—this isn’t like any Quintessence I’ve seen before.” That was putting it mildly. Krolia checked the console again, not sure if she could trust her eyes. The readings were off the charts.

“Begin experiments at once. We might finally have the answers we’re looking for.” Ranveig smiled.

“Right away, Commander.” She had a bad feeling about this.

The Quintessence they’d intercepted wasn’t just stronger than any she’d ever seen, it behaved strangely too. Almost as if it had a mind of its own. She didn’t like that. Quintessence was life itself but it wasn’t supposed to be _literally_   _alive_.

Until it was.

Or at least, until it merged with an unwilling host to create an abomination that made Krolia’s stomach churn.

In Ranveig’s mind, the monster was his crowning achievement. Krolia knew then he wasn’t clever or intelligent after all. He was insane. The monster couldn’t be controlled. Ranveig was deluding himself. It would turn on them all given the chance.

Good, they all deserved it. When she thought about what the monster once had been she felt sick.

“Ranveig created a superweapon.” The connection was full of static. She was far away from even the nearest outpost of the Blades, but even then the static was unusual. They bounced signals off the empire, hijacking their feeds for their own purposes. It was risky but necessary. The didn’t have enough outposts to cover the entire universe. Something was wrong in the empire if there was static.

“Emperor—,” the connection broke, “—dead. —Zera will be held. We’ll be—” The Blade member she was reporting to continued to speak, static peppering the connection but Krolia understood enough to be in disbelief.

“Ranveig’s weapon can’t fall into the wrong hands, now more than ever. I need an extraction.” Her heart sped up making the request.

“Understood. I’ll send word to Kolivan.”

Extraction. She was leaving. She was going home. How long had it been since she’d seen Kolivan in person? Or any other member of the Blade for that matter.

The monster. She couldn’t leave it behind. She needed to destroy it. She almost canceled the extraction. There was no way they could—no, she couldn’t think that way. Not yet. She would wait until someone came and make her decision then. She wasn’t ready to die yet. This was the beginning of a new universe.

A universe she would make safe for Keith.

**Author's Note:**

> find the star wars references


End file.
